


Ripples 15

by Grey (grey853)



Category: The Sentinel
Genre: Angst, Drama, M/M, Multiple Partners, Series: Ripples
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-10
Updated: 2013-05-10
Packaged: 2017-12-11 01:42:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,108
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/792561
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/grey853/pseuds/Grey
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>More problems arise as the guys try to settle into their relationship.<br/>This story is a sequel to Ripples 14.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ripples 15

## Ripples 15

by Grey

Author's webpage: <http://grey.ravenshadow.net/>

* * *

Disclaimer: Not mine, yet. 

Summary: Problems continue as the guys try to settle into their new relationship. 

Notes: Thanks to Jenn aka XFreak for the edits and the continuing support. She really hangs in there and I appreciate it. 

Warning: If you don't like the idea of Jim and Blair being involved with Simon, read another story. 

* * *

Ripples 15  
by Grey 

Jim scanned the scene, noting the details, letting the forensics team work around him. Instead of focusing on the body, he glanced over at Blair, his partner's racing vitals distracting as well as disturbing. "Chief, you okay?" 

"Not really. Damn it, Jim, he's just a kid." 

"I know. Why don't you wait in the truck? I'm almost done here." 

Shaking his head, running his hands nervously through his hair, Blair stepped closer and kept his voice low. "I can't, man, not with your senses acting up." 

"I'm okay in that department. And it shouldn't be much longer. I can't do much more until we get an ID and some tests back." 

"You sure?" 

"Yeah. Go wait in the truck while I talk to Brown. I'll be there in a minute." 

Reluctantly, Blair nodded, biting his lip as he took one more look at the victim and shook his head again. "Okay, but I hope you catch the bastard who did this." 

"We'll catch him. Now go on before you get sick again." 

"Sorry about that." 

"You're not the first to lose it, Chief. Now go on." 

As Blair walked away, Brown approached, his voice tense and professional. "He okay, man?" 

"He'll be fine. You know how he gets." 

"Yeah. Almost lost it myself on this one." Staring down at the mutilated corpse of a boy no older than fourteen, Brown grimaced. "I never get used to shit like this, man. Beaten, raped, and cut up and left here like garbage. Poor son of a bitch didn't have a chance." 

"To the perp he probably was garbage. He's a hustler. Don't know his name, but I know the look. We'll run his picture through vice and see what we come up with." 

"Have to clean it up first, man." 

"Yeah." Jim fought the rolling bile boiling up into his throat and clenched his jaw, removing himself from the scene as much as he could. "He wasn't killed here. Not enough blood. We need a team to canvas for witnesses for the drop off, but we need another crew down in the district. Find out if anyone saw who picked him up." 

"I'm on it. You going off duty?" 

"I'm never off duty." Taking a deep breath, Jim focused on the bruises around the boy's neck and face and squatted down. Extending his senses, he traced his fingers along the battered skin. "Perp wore a ring, wide band, had a lion's head on it. The guy had to be big, or at least his hands were." 

"How can you tell that?" 

"I can feel the indentations." 

"No shit?" 

"We find the ring, we can match it. And there are samples here, too. Looks like he wore a condom for the rape, but didn't when he made the kid suck him off." He stood up, removing his gloves, disgusted and needing a hot shower. 

"Shit." 

"Yeah. We get the perp, we'll have enough evidence to convict." 

"Got to find the asshole first. Got a whole city of johns to work through." 

"Start with the chicken hawks on file first. Probably has a history of rough trade, too." 

"Sure. Makes sense. Your time with Vice might pay off on this one." 

"Hated Vice. Learned more than I ever wanted to know about the dark side." 

Jim ignored the worried glance as Brown nodded and spoke more softly. "Why don't you go on home, man? It's late. I'll call if we get anything." 

"Thanks, H." 

Jim stood a few more moments before turning towards the truck. The case rattled him, made him want to kick down the brick fence surrounding the area. Climbing in the truck, he slammed the door, his hands still fisted and unsteady. 

A gentle hand touched his shoulder and he closed his eyes, unable to shut out the vision of the victim. "He's just a kid, Blair." A kid with brown curly hair and eyes that used to be blue. Shit. He wiped his face with both hands. "I hate this job sometimes." 

"But you're good at it, the best." 

"Doesn't make it any easier when there's a case like this." 

"I know." Blair rubbed the back of his neck, his motions steady and calm. "Can we go home now or do we have to go back to the station?" 

"Home for now. Brown's working on it." 

"Good. It's been a long day and I want to talk to Simon." 

Anger roared in his head and fired his tongue before he could stop it. "Talk or suck, Sandburg?" 

"Jesus, Jim. I can't believe you said that." 

Blair unlocked the door, prepared to leave before Jim reached over and grabbed his arm. "I'm sorry, Chief. I'm just upset." 

"You're such a dick, man." 

"That, too. Don't leave. I'm really sorry." 

"Fuck you. Let go." Releasing his arm, Jim waited, barely breathing. After a few more seconds, Blair pulled the door shut and fastened his seat belt, his heart still racing. "Just drive, man." 

"Home?" 

"For now." 

He reached for the ignition, his gut knotted, his head swarming with worry. Fumbling the keys, his vision blurred and blinked in and out as he tried to focus. "Shit." 

"What?" 

"I can't see." 

"You're a mess, man. Can you see anything?" 

Straining his eyes, making out only fog and shadows, he sat back. "Not enough to drive." 

Blair got out and came around to open the door on his side. "Scoot over." 

He followed orders and sat mutely as Blair buckled him up and then started the engine. "Keep your eyes closed until we get home. Rest and we'll talk later." 

"I'm really sorry, Chief." 

"I know. Now be quiet before you hurt yourself any more." 

* * *

Jim opened his eyes, his vision still swimming up and not quite clear. The world spun in a circle when he turned his head or tried to sit up. 

"You need help inside, man?" 

"I'm dizzy." 

"Is your hearing messed up, too?" 

"Doesn't seem to be. I can see, but everything's a fuzzy whirl. I feel shaky." 

"Damn." Blair got out and opened the door on Jim's side, using both hands to steady him. "Hold on to me and go slow. I want to get you inside so you can lie down for awhile." 

Getting out of the truck carefully, he followed instructions. The vertigo calmed as he walked quietly along and let Blair lead the way. Inside the elevator, the movement renewed the merry-go-round in his head. He suppressed a groan and held on tighter. 

"We're almost there, man. Trust me." 

True to his word, Blair guided him into the apartment and to the sofa, easing him down. A few moments later a cold plastic bottle pressed into his hand. "Drink this." 

"What is it?" 

"Just water. You could be dehydrated." 

Upending the bottle, he drank half before stopping. He put the unfinished part on the table and blinked several times, his vision more clear, but not reliable. 

"Better?" 

"Some." 

"Good. Now, lie back. I'm going to fix some dinner. We'll talk later when Simon gets here." 

"Blair?" 

"Later." 

"I just need to know we're okay." 

"I love you, Jim. Now rest and just try to relax." 

Forcing himself to stretch out, he covered his face with his forearm, his muscles too tense. He hated being such a horse's ass. 

Taking several calming breaths, he listened as Blair moved around the kitchen trying to be quiet. Despite his efforts the clang of pots, the running water, the clack of the knife against the cutting board all worked to orchestrate his production of dinner. Ripe tomatoes spilled their aroma across the room to mix with the sharp scent of green onions and fresh cheese. Boiling water meant pasta, the rhythm of bubbles as it heated on the stove an odd comfort. 

Rolling on his side, Jim pushed away the invasive images of the anonymous boy in the alley, the spill of his own hateful words, the terrible slash of his jealousy cutting away at his heart. An army of anxious spirits permeated his thoughts, Peru, the crash, his men all dead or dying, Incacha, the other warriors who wanted the shaman's attention, the touches he craved but rarely got. Even his father loomed up at one point, his father for christsakes, a man he worked a lifetime to not think about, standing there as vivid as ever calling him a freak of nature, leaving him, hating him on sight. Jesus. 

Trembling, he jerked up, his body drenched in sweat. 

"Jim, man, settle down. You're okay." 

"What happened?" 

"You had a nightmare. You're safe." 

Strong arms held him, pulling him closer as Blair rubbed his hands up and down his back. Jim swallowed hard and bit back the tears he hated before he pulled away. "I'm fine." 

"Sure you are." Blair didn't let him go completely, but shifted to sit more comfortably beside him. "Must've been a doozy." 

"I hate dreaming." 

"See any animal spirits?" 

"No, just ghosts." 

"Ghosts?" 

"Just leave it alone." 

"Okay." Blair tilted his head and then gingerly touched the back of his neck, his fingers warm and soothing. "Dinner's almost done. How's your vision?" 

Surprised, he took a visual inventory around the loft. No longer blind, his world appeared crystal clear again. "Back to normal." 

"Good. You want a shower before you eat?" 

Looking down, he pulled the damp T-shirt away from himself. "Need to." He met worried eyes and shrugged, "I'm okay, Blair." 

"You've got a lot of things going on, Jim. It's okay to be scared or upset." 

"I'm just tired." 

"Whatever." Blair stood up and headed back to the kitchen. "Simon called." 

"I didn't hear it." 

"You were asleep." 

"I still should've heard it." 

"Yeah, you should have. Anyway, he'll be here in about fifteen minutes." 

"Did he say anything about Joan?" 

"No, but he sounded closed off." 

"Closed off?" 

"Yeah, you know about that, man. Closed off, like he didn't want to talk about it." 

Jim sat back, one hand on the back of the sofa, the other rubbing both his temples, the spiking pain a growing misery. "If you've got a point, Sandburg, just make it." 

"Why? So you can go blind again before we eat? Just go take a shower and let's hope Simon's in a better mood when he gets here." 

Snapping his jaw shut against his own urge to argue, Jim stood up and walked to the counter. He kept his voice even, his arms braced forward. "I'm not closed off just because I don't want to talk about every little thing that's ever bothered me." 

"No?" 

"No." 

Blair put the spoon down and faced him, his eyes intent, his jaw squarely set. "I'm your partner, Jim. So's Simon. If you can't tell us what's going on with you, how is this going to work?" 

"Nothing's going on with me. I told you, I'm just tired. If you'll remember, I haven't gotten much sleep over the last few nights. We've been a little busy." 

"I was there, man. I know. Maybe that's the problem." 

"What are you talking about?" 

"I'm talking about sex, Jim. Maybe we all just need to be together without doing the sex thing for awhile." 

"And what would be the point of that?" 

Blair shook his head and picked up his spoon again to stir the pasta. "The point is, it's not about sex." 

"It's not?" 

"No, man, it's not, because if that's all it's about, then it's not what I'm about." 

Confused and frowning, Jim rubbed his face with both hands but didn't manage to clear his head. "You're losing me here, Chief." 

"Intimacy." 

"Intimacy?" 

"You know the word?" 

"I've heard of the concept." 

"Good, because we're going to be talking about it a lot more later on. For now, why don't you just go shower? I hate to tell you, but you look pretty grim." 

"I feel grim." Without another word, Jim headed to the bathroom, his head filled with questions. 

No sex? What the hell could Blair be thinking? 

* * *

Closed off just about covered it. Simon said very little through the meal and barely commented on Jim's temporary blindness or the new case. After they finished, Simon got up and went to stand at the window, arms crossed, his attention nowhere near the loft. 

Jim helped Blair clear up and clean away the dishes, both men remaining as quiet as their companion. Grabbing a beer, Jim took to the sofa and the younger man sat down beside him, leaning in, his head resting against his arm. After awhile longer, Jim finally spoke. "You going to tell us about what happened or not?" 

"I said I didn't want to talk about it." 

"I heard what you said. I just think you need to." 

Simon turned, his face and voice angry. "That's rich coming from you, Ellison. Didn't Sandburg say you had another sensory blackout? You want to talk about _that_?" 

Blair sat up and tucked his legs up under him, silently watching both men, his face relaxed and keenly observant. Jim sighed and shrugged. "I don't really want to, but I will if you will." 

Still standing, Simon nodded. "You first." 

"I said something shitty to Blair and then got waylaid before I could turn around." 

"What'd you say?" 

"It doesn't matter. It was uncalled for and I knew it as soon as I said it. He wanted to get home and talk to you and for some reason I just hated that he wanted to be with you instead of me." 

"I never said that, Jim. I'm with you all day." 

"I know that, Chief. I don't know why I get so jealous about you and Simon. I know it's wrong, but at the time, it just hit me wrong." 

"It's been hitting you wrong too often, Jim." Simon stepped closer and took the seat across from them as he leaned forward to talk. "Ever since we got together, it's been one thing after another. You've always been a surly bastard, but it's getting to the point that I want to punch you out sometimes." 

"Maybe you should." 

"That's not going to happen." Simon sighed and leaned back. "You ever wonder why I left Joan?" 

"I thought she left you?" 

"She left me a long time before I walked out, Jim. She made it impossible to stay if I wanted to keep my job." 

Blair twisted to turn more toward Simon before he asked, "How'd she do that?" 

"She knew I was a cop from the beginning, but I don't think she had a clue about what that meant, not really. She was jealous of the job, man. It got to the point that no matter what happened, she'd have some snide remark to make about it and the time I was spending trying to make captain. As if that wasn't enough, she tried laying a guilt trip on me. Didn't I care about being with my son? Didn't I want to be a good husband?" Simon ran his hand along the back of his head, his eyes focused on the past. "I tried so hard to make her happy, but in the end, she couldn't handle me being a cop." 

Simon turned his attention back to Jim. "I love you, but you've got to get a handle on me being with Blair, too." 

"Are you saying you'll leave me?" 

"I'm saying it's up to you. Joan knows about us." He held up a silencing hand before he continued. "She's not going to say anything. She says she's just worried about it getting out, about Daryl being humiliated. It doesn't matter what she says though. I'm not leaving unless you make me." 

"How could I make you?" 

"By letting your jealousy rule your head." 

"He's right, Jim. We need to figure out a way to make you feel like you really belong to us." 

Defensive again, Jim stood up and paced. "Is this about that no sex thing you were talking about earlier?" 

"What no sex thing?" Simon looked between them, confused. 

"I was telling Jim that it's not about sex, or not completely. I'm thinking we need more intimacy, more just being together to help us feel more committed." 

"No sex?" Simon repeated the phrase, disbelieving. 

"That's what _I_ said." Jim stepped closer, wanting to share the complaint. 

Blair smiled and shook his head. "Listen, we all like sex, no argument." 

"None here, Chief." 

"But I was thinking that maybe we should just try talking and doing a little touch therapy before we go doing anything else for awhile." 

"Touch therapy?" Jim crossed his arms as he moved back to the window, not the least bit swayed. "What's wrong with just having sex? Sex and intimacy are the same thing." 

"They're two different things, man. Totally." 

"Simon, help me out here." 

Simon rubbed his chin and looked over at Blair. "I think he's right, Jim." 

"What? Are you serious?" 

"We can at least try it. What can it hurt?" 

His cock ached and cried its answer, but he covered his mouth and turned away. "I don't believe this. I've got two men I want to be with and neither want to have sex." 

"You're missing the point, man. Simon and I want to have sex, but we want something deeper than that. I think you do, too, if you'll just let yourself open up enough to make it possible." 

"Open up how, Sandburg? Spill my guts about every little thing I'm feeling? You know how I hate that." 

"I know you do, Jim, but look what it's costing? Your body's senses are trying to give you a message. Listen up, man, or we're taking a hike. You went blind today for godsakes. Think about it." 

Still uneasy from the earlier episode, Jim wiped his mouth and took a deep breath. He wanted these men, wanted to trust them, but, damn, it made his head hurt to do it. Still, he couldn't lose either of them, not now, not knowing how much they could give him. 

Turning slowly, he frowned. "Touch therapy, huh? How's that work?" 

Tilting his head, Blair smiled. "Well, first we get naked..." 

The end 


End file.
